


The Secret Dance

by JMDeLoach



Category: Call the Midwife, pupcake - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Fluff, How to lesbian flirt in the 1960s, Origin Story, Pre-Canon, Racist Language, Racist language in beginning of chapter 5 can skip the first part if you don't want to read, the lightest of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-08
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:34:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26888950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JMDeLoach/pseuds/JMDeLoach
Summary: Being gay in the 1960's meant being closeted and being cautious. If a nurse, like Delia or Patsy, was found out they would surely lose their nursing license, and worse. So you had to be particularly careful if you found someone you fancied. Misinterpret one signal and it could spell disaster. So how did Delia and Patsy ever find the courage to brave the odds and make a first move? This is my idea of how it all started.
Relationships: Delia Busby/Patsy Mount, Pupcake - Relationship
Comments: 58
Kudos: 134





	1. If At First You Don't Succeed

Nurse Patience “Patsy” Mount was known by her colleagues at the London as “Unapproachable Patsy'' and “Mount Frigid” and a few other nicknames they dare not speak in her presence. She was all business and had absolutely no interest in idle chit chat or wasting time. She refused all invitations of nights out with the other nurses including films, drinks, dances, and even gossip sessions at the nurses’ house. She was meticulous and exact and filled any idle time with cleaning, straightening, studying, or finding ways to be more efficient. She was a consummate professional and completely dedicated to nursing. By all accounts, a spinster in the making.

Delia Busby, by contrast, was always up for fun. Though she was new to the London, she had made quick friends with the nurses who liked to socialize, be it a quick drink or a dance-a-thon at the local club. She was an excellent nurse and great with her patients; but she was also ready to go at a moment’s notice to socialize and have a good time. In her efforts to maintain her work/social life balance, she was often left exhausted, but never regretful. 

Delia saw the best in all things, including the nurse who had not once returned her lingering gaze or dimpled smile. There was something about the tall redhead that she couldn’t quite put her finger on; but she intended to figure it out. Even if she had to invent a way to strike up a conversation. 

Sitting in her room, door open, Delia waited until she heard the footfalls of nurse Mount approaching from down the hall. She had memorized her stride, by far the longest of all the nurses that lived on her floor. Most other nurses on the floor were putting on their finishing touches, getting ready for a night out on the town. Patsy, however, was just getting home from her shift.

“Nurse Mount,” Delia said, popping up from her vanity and moving to the doorway as Patsy passed. “Some of us are going out for a drink and then to a film. Do you care to join us?” Delia waited patiently with a warm smile and hopeful eyes.

Patsy looked awkward. She hadn’t bothered to learn this new nurse’s name. Even though they lived just three doors down from one another on the same floor in the nurse’s house. Right now there was nothing she wanted more than to curl up with a good book—which she had in her hand—and a glass of scotch whisky. 

“Thank you,” she said, forcing her lips into a smile and trying to be polite. “But I’m rather tired and wish to turn in early.”

Delia’s face melted but she quickly recovered not wanting to make Patsy feel guilty. “No worries then,” she screwed on a smile. “Maybe next time.”

“Perhaps,” Patsy said, just to be polite, and made her way down the hall to her room.

*******

Not one to give up, Delia decided the next week to try a different tactic. Perhaps it wasn’t that nurse Mount was unapproachable, like the others said, perhaps she just didn’t care for crowds. She noticed that Patsy would often come home with a book and proceed to her room, presumably reading, for the rest of the evening. So she decided to strike up a conversation about a book she knew Patsy had recently read.

Again she waited in her room, sat upon her bed, door open, listening for the unmistakable cadence of the footfalls of one Patience Mount. This time, however, instead of calling to her as she passed by, Delia decided to “accidentally” bump into her in the hallway.

The sound of footsteps on the stairs alerted Delia and she stood at the ready. As soon as she heard the footfalls echoing in the hallway Delia was sure it was Patsy. She tightened her grip on the book and left her room, head down, and ran smack into the tall redhead. All according to plan. 

“Goodness, sorry,” she said looking up at Patsy. She lingered without saying anything further, hoping Patsy might say something in return.

“Quite alright,” Patsy said, stepping aside and continuing down the hall to her room.

“I was just going to Margaret’s room to see if she wanted to borrow this book,” Delia said, somewhat awkwardly, trying to salvage the evening she had put on hold for a moment with Patsy. “It’s called ‘Laura’ and it’s a murder mystery. Have you read it?”

Patsy stopped and turned to face the brunette. “Yes, actually, just a few weeks ago.”

Delia changed directions and made her way toward Patsy. “Really?” She tried to feign ignorance, knowing full well Patsy had brought the book home just last month. “Did you enjoy it? Would you care to discuss it sometime?”

Patsy looked confused by the invitation. Why would you discuss a book you had already read when you could use that time to read a new one? And why discuss a murder mystery. It wasn’t as though it was a thought provoking take on society or anything. “I’m sorry,” Patsy said, brow furrowed, “I don’t mean to be rude, but I don’t believe I know your name.”

Delia blushed. How daft of her. “Delia,” she smiled. “Delia Busby.” She extended her hand.

Patsy smiled. “Patience Mount.” She shook Delia’s hand. As soon as their palms touched it was as if something passed between them. Patsy’s eyes softened and her lips slightly parted. “Patsy,” Was all she could say to continue the conversation.

“Patsy,” Delia repeated, of course she already knew her name. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” She didn’t realize she was still holding onto Patsy’s hand. She just stood there not sure what to do next. She hadn’t really thought things through and she had forgotten entirely what it was that she asked Patsy in the first place.

Patsy came back to her senses first. “I don’t believe she’s there,” Patsy said. “And you still have hold of my hand.”

Delia snapped from her daze. “What?” She looked down to see that she was still gripping Patsy’s hand. Her cheeks flushed red and she quickly let go. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized.

Patsy smiled. “I said, I don’t think she’s there,” she repeated.

“Who? Where?” Delia was utterly confused.

“Margaret,” Patsy said. “I don’t think she’s here. She was still on her shift at the London when I left just now.”

Delia remembered the book and the scheme she had concocted. “Oh, right.” She blushed again. “Then I suppose it will have to wait.” 

“Well, goodnight then,” Patsy said and turned to head to her room.

“Goodnight,” Delia said with obvious disappointment in her voice. She stepped toward her room.

Patsy paused as she reached for her doorknob. “Delia,” she said, looking back at the brunette.

“Yes,” Delia answered from down the hall.

“Do you fancy a whisky?” 


	2. Simple Gestures

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Delia extends a simply courtesy to an exhausted Patsy.

Meals at the nurses’ house were rarely an event. Shifts at the London were staggered between wards and nurses had to catch their own meals when and where they could. This resulted in the large table at the nurses’ house rarely being occupied by more than three women at any given time.

More often than not nurses were in and out of the kitchen making their meals and packing lunches for themselves and very often tripping over one another in the process as space was limited. 

Each nurse had an allotted area in the cupboards, arranged by room number, to store their tins and other non-perishables. This arrangement placed Delia’s cupboard space, entirely by chance, right above Patsy’s. Were it switched they may not have seemed like Laurel and Hardy on the rare occasion they were both trying to access their food supplies at the same time. And even the most casual observer could see that it would make more sense for the taller nurse’s items to be above the shorter’s.

“Sorry,” Delia said as she reached over the redhead for her tin of tea. 

“No worries,” Patsy replied, although to be honest she was very annoyed with the whole idea of being on the bottom shelf when she was one of the taller nurses in the house. 

Delia filled a kettle and noticed Patsy setting out a tin of tea as well. “Would you like me to make tea for the both of us?” Delia smiled at Patsy. Her bubbly morning personality could drive you mad, or it could calm even the most savage beasts, completely depending on your mood. 

“That would be lovely,” Patsy sighed, trying ever so hard to be grateful, but knowing full well her annoyance was evident. “I’m running ever so late.” 

“Weren’t you on the late shift last night?” Delia asked as she settled the kettle onto the stove. She didn’t need Patsy to answer, she knew her schedule as well as she knew her own. As much as she could, she planned her kitchen time by it, she planned her route to and from the London by it. She even went so far as to plan her common area time and bedtime by it, all depending on when and where she was most likely to “randomly” run into Nurse Mount. 

“Yes,” Patsy said, collapsing in a chair at the table. Her usual professional persona slipping and her sheer exhaustion coming to the surface. “And I was kept late. But nevermind that, I’m expected right back this morning after only four hours of sleep. Now if I manage to pull myself together long enough to make some breakfast, and God willing, pack a lunch in ten minutes I won’t be late.”

Delia looked at her plate of one egg over easy, a sausage link, and buttered toast. She sighed and asked herself why on Earth she would do what she was about to do, but she already knew the answer. “Here,” she said in a lovely Welsh lilt, and placed the plate in front of Patsy. 

“No, I couldn’t,” Patsy said, looking into Delia’s lovely blue eyes. 

“I insist,” Delia said. Her smile was cheery and she refused to look away from Patsy. “And since I have to make my lunch anyway, I’ll just make two. And I won’t take ‘no’ for an answer. Now eat.” Patsy dared not protest and went about dipping toast into runny yolk. She hadn’t eaten since lunch the day before and didn’t realize just how hungry she was. 

Delia made herself a quick jam sandwich for breakfast and went about setting out ingredients for two packed lunches. The kettle sang. She poured a cuppa for Patsy and handed it to her. Patsy reached for the cup, and grazed her fingers across the back of Delia’s hand--quite on purpose.

“Why are you doing this?” Patsy asked in a quiet tone. She was not used to this type of warmth and tenderness from any of the other nurses.

“Because I want to,” Delia said and returned to making their lunch.

***

Weather and time permitting, Delia preferred to eat her lunch outside in the open air. There was a small park near the London where she often found the only peace and quiet she would get during the day. She sat on one of the benches and ate her packed lunch as she tuned out the world around her and daydreamed. 

Patsy cleared her throat, “I said, is this seat taken?”

Startled, Delia looked up. She had just taken a bite of her pork pie. 

“You have a bit,” Patsy pointed at the corner of her own mouth, “just there.” 

Delia blushed bright crimson and put her hand up to cover her lips. “Sorry,” she said, mouth full. She chewed and swallowed quickly. “I didn’t hear you. Please, sit.” She moved her things from the bench beside her and put them in her lap. 

“Whatever were you so in thought about, nurse Busby?” Patsy asked. 

“Nothing,” Delia answered. “Just daydreaming about a day off. I’ve just started a seven day week and I’m already tired with the morning I've had.” 

“That’s because you gave up your delicious breakfast,” Patsy said. “You can’t start a seven dayer without a proper meal. But I am ever so grateful you did. I doubt I would have managed otherwise.” 

They smiled at one another and ate their identical lunches that Delia had so thoughtfully put together that morning. They filled the time between bites with idle chit chat.

“It’s a shame they make you hide your hair beneath that uniform hat,” Delia said, admiring the way the sun shined off Patsy’s red locks. She had refreshed the dye two days ago and it was now even more striking. It was a sharp departure from the pale blonde Patsy sported when Delia first arrived at the London. 

“They say blondes have more fun,” Patsy scoffed. “But I was here for over a year with those flaxon locks and had more fun in one evening sharing a glass of Jonnie Walker with you the other night.” 

Delia blushed. “It was just a drink.” 

“The drink was good,” Patsy said. “The company was better.”

Delia wanted to make a small gesture. Something to show Patsy how she felt. More than a smile or an extended gaze, but people were filtering into the park and their private lunch spot suddenly became too crowded for comfort. So she settled for a simple “I agree” and went about her lunch. 

“But give it a month and I may well be a blonde again,” Patsy said. “The hair color tends to change on a whim.” 

Sandwiches devoured, Patsy reached into her coat pocket and withdrew a closed fist. A prize clearly concealed inside. “Hold out your hand, nurse Busby,” she ordered. 

Delia did as she was told. No use arguing over what was likely going to be a treat of some sort. 

A foil wrapped package fell from Patsy’s hand into Delia’s waiting palm. “A penguin biscuit? How did you manage this?”

“Mr. McIntosh’s mum brought a slew of them to the ward. Of course matron Winford confiscated them. “No chocolates for the patients!’” Patsy mimicked the stern voice. They both laughed and unwrapped their treats. “So of course I stole two when she left for the loo.” 

“Brigand! Thank you,” Delia said. Her smile shined in the midday sun. 

“It’s literally the very least I could do after all your help this morning. I feel I owe you breakfast and lunch out.” 

“I won’t say no,” Delia said. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I was just going to make Patsy a redhead and leave it at that because that's how I picture her. Even though she was blonde when we first meet her on CtM. But after a comment on last chapter I decided to at least address the hair color, but I'm going to leave it red for now.


	3. A Damsel and her Heroine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy comes to Delia's rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pupcake Friday!

To say that Delia was exhausted was an understatement. She worked seven days in a row ending the work week with the late shift on Monday night, the early shift on Tuesday morning—which ran over—and then a back to back double on Wednesday. When she finally dragged herself home Wednesday evening she simply did not have the energy to make it up the flight of stairs to her room and decided to take a short break on the sofa in the common room. 

Despite the conversations and the laughter Delia slept through the hours of late evening as the other nurses came and went and either ignored or laughed at the short brunette asleep in a tight fetal position on the sofa. The Matron was out at a conference in Liverpool for two days or else she would have never allowed the slumber to continue for as long as it did. But without proper oversight, the residents at the nurses’ house left poor Delia exposed and vulnerable without care. That is until Nurse Mount returned from her shift.

Patsy heard the giggles as soon as she walked in the building. Normally the activities of the other nurses wouldn’t phase her. She couldn’t care less about what they did in their spare time as long as it didn’t include her or interfere with her free time. But the tone of one nurse in particular sounded mean spirited and Patsy couldn’t help but investigate as she walked past the common room heading toward the kitchen.

“We could put her hand in warm water,” one nurse said. “I hear that makes you pee.” They all giggled at the suggestion. 

“That’s not true,” another nurse said. “But we could draw on her face with a marker.” 

“That may be a little much,” a third nurse said. “Why not fill her hand with cold cream and tickle her ear.” 

“Why would we do that?” the second nurse asked. 

“Because when she swats at her ear from the tickle she’ll fill it with cold cream,” the third nurse explained. 

“Yes, let’s do that,” they all giggled and turned on their heels to prepare the prank. 

“You’ll do no such thing,” Patsy said blocking their way out the door. She could see Delia asleep on the couch across the room. 

“Nurse Mount,” one of them said in an obviously insincere greeting. “What do you care? Matron didn’t leave you in charge.” 

“I care that you’re acting like a bunch of school-girl bullies while the Matron is away. Are you so undisciplined that you’ll only behave when you think you are being watched?” 

The sound of Patsy’s voice stirred Delia, even if she wasn’t fully cognizant of what was going on at all. 

“Maybe if you loosened up a bit you’d see that this is funny and it’s what girls do,” one of the nurses snapped back. 

“Yeah,” another chimed in, “have you never had a slumber party before?” 

Patsy stood like a stone statue. These women had no idea of her history or anything about her for that matter. “You are professionals. Act like it.” And with that Patsy stormed past them and to the couch. 

The three nurses left in a huff, out for the night and well past curfew. 

Patsy sat on the arm of the couch beside Delia’s head. Her hand hovered over the stray strand of brunette hair as she weighed the consequences of tucking the lock behind her ear. Eventually, she decided to gently lay her hand on Delia’s shoulder. “Nurse Busby,” she said in a hushed but firm tone. 

“Hmmm,” Delia answered back, still mostly asleep and certainly groggy.

She tried again. “Delia,” Patsy said, this time with a little more authority to her voice. It worked. Delia sat bolt up on the couch. 

“I’m awake,” Delia said, not fully realizing where she was or how long she’d been there. She looked around and rubbed her eyes. Then she noticed Patsy sitting on the arm of the sofa. “Patsy,” she smiled. 

“Let’s get you up stairs and into bed,” Patsy said. 

“Why am I asleep in the common room?” Delia asked, as if Patsy knew the answer to all things. 

“I imagine because you have been overworked,” Patsy smiled. “Up you go.” She pulled Delia up and put her arm around her to help her up the stairs. By the time they made it to her room Delia was a little more awake and a lot more embarrassed. 

“God, how long was I asleep in the common room?” she asked. Her Welsh accent coming out incredibly thick.

“What time did you get home?” Patsy asked. 

“Six,” Delia said, squinting to help herself remember. 

“Four hours,” Patsy smiled. 

“Uuuhhh,” Delia groaned. “I’ve seen what these nurses do to one another when they catch someone asleep down there. God, do I have anything drawn on my face?” 

Patsy laughed. “No. You’re in the clear. Luckily for you I wandered by before they could enact their plans.” 

“My hero,” Delia smiled at Patsy and the redhead blushed a shade that matched her hair dye. 

“Hardly,” Patsy said. “It was cold cream in the ear, by the way.” 

“Better than marker to the face,” Delia yawned. 

“Now, to bed with you and enjoy a late morning. I believe tomorrow is your day off?” 

“Finally,” Delia yawned again, wider this time. “G’night, Pats.” The moniker slipped out in her exhausted state and she didn’t even realize it. She stumbled to her bed and fell in without so much as removing a kirby grip from her hair. Patsy smiled, gently closed the door, and went to her room. 

“Patience Elizabeth Mount.” Patsy scolded herself as soon as she got back in her room. She lit a cigarette with shaky hands and sat on the edge of the bed. The room filled with smoke from a sharp exhale. “You will not do this. You will not jeopardize everything you have sacrificed and worked so hard for.”

She pulled another shaky drag from the cigarette. “You’ve already settled this. You are not allowed to have feelings for a woman. You could lose your nursing license. And then what? What do you have to fall back on? Nothing.”

Her second person conversation was one way and unforgiving. She angrily mashed the cigarette into the ashtray to blot it out. Reaching under the bed she retrieved a small box. From within, she pulled an ornate compact. She opened it with care and ran her fingertip across the broken mirrored glass. A routine she had etched into habit. 

“I may not have anyone to fall back on,” she said to herself, “but I don’t have to be alone.” 


	4. Books and Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patsy and Delia each muster the courage to spend more time together. But how do you let someone know how you feel when you can't risk letting them know how you feel?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the day late in posting. It's been a rough week.

“Delia,” Patsy called, just catching the brunette as she was leaving the nurse’s house with a group for the evening. 

“Yes?” Delia smiled, always happy these days for any attention from the redhead. 

“I was wondering if I could borrow a book. I seem to have read all of mine and have no ambition to wander out this late to find a new one. I think you have some titles I haven’t read.” 

Delia was surprised that Patsy had paid attention to her book collection, and was rather flattered that she had paid any attention to her or her things at all. “Please, help yourself,” Delia smiled, “door’s unlocked.” 

“Thank you, I’ll make sure to return it straight away,” Patsy smiled. 

“Are you sure you won’t come out dancing with us?” Delia asked. 

“Quite sure,” Patsy smiled. “I can’t imagine I’d find a dance partner that would strike my fancy at the club.” Patsy diverted her eyes as she felt a slight blush across her cheeks. 

Delia leaned in a bit closer to Patsy, “I don’t fancy the dance partners, only the dancing.” With that she turned on her heels to catch up to the nurses who were calling up to her from the front door. 

***** 

Patsy knocked lightly on Delia’s door. “Come in.” She heard from inside. 

“I’m returning your book,” Patsy smiled at Delia who was laying on her bed reading a magazine. “How was your night out dancing?” It had been a week since Patsy had borrowed the book, but their shifts had prevented them from seeing each other sooner. And Patsy had refused to simply leave the book at Delia’s door. Half of the reason she borrowed it in the first place was to have an excuse to see Delia when she returned it. 

Delia smiled. She suddenly remembered the interaction in the hall a week ago. Though, to be honest, she had thought of it frequently over the past few days, especially the part where Patsy talked about dance partners. “It was fine. Dancing is always fun.” 

Patsy smiled and raised her eyebrows, “I bet the boys are lined up to dance with you.” 

Delia almost laughed but stopped herself for fear of being rude. She stood up to be more sociable with Patsy. “Hardly,” she smiled. “If you think that then you haven’t been paying attention to the company I go out with.” 

“Why do you say that?” Patsy asked, confused. 

“I don’t exactly make myself up for the boys,” Delia admitted. “Not like Olivia or Susan or Jenny. Like I said, I go to dance, not to flirt. And certainly not to find a man.” Delia reached her hand out for the book and Patsy somehow recognized the gesture even with all the thoughts swirling in her head. 

“Oh,” she said, “sorry.” She extended the book to Delia who delicately brushed her fingers along Patsy’s hand as she took it. 

Patsy swallowed hard and diverted her eyes from Delia. As Delia returned the book to the shelf Patsy couldn’t stop the words from spilling out, despite herself. “I think you’re selling yourself short if you don’t think you are worth lining up for.” And with all her courage spent, Patsy turned on her heel and returned to her room, rather astonished at herself for what she just said. 

*****

Delia had practiced her words and drawn up her courage and practiced some more. But despite it all she had no idea if she could follow through with her plan. But why not? Nurses went to the cinema together all the time. It wasn’t suspicious or presumptuous. It was just two people going to see a film. So why was she so nervous? 

She was nervous because she wanted to invite Patsy. And if Patsy said ‘no’ she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to screw up the courage to do it again. And if Patsy said ‘yes’ she didn’t know if she’d be able to contain her excitement and she certainly may not be able to tell if it meant the same thing to Patsy as it did to her. But that was fine, it had to be. Baby steps. 

Then it hit her like a ton of bricks. What type of film should she invite Patsy to? It couldn’t be too juvenile or Patsy may miss the point all together. It couldn’t be too romantic or Patsy may get scared off. Creature feature? But no, too gory. Documentary? No, too boring. Oh God, what was to be done? 

“Breathe, Busby,” she told herself. “Don’t over think this. Just invite Patsy to the cinema and go from there. You can decide when you get there.” 

Delia knocked on Patsy’s closed door. “Come,” the familiar voice beckoned from within. She calmed her hands and took a breath before opening the door. ‘It’s just an invitation,’ she told herself. ‘Not the end of the world if she says no.’ 

“Hello, Delia,” Patsy smiled as the brunette entered her room. 

“I was wondering,” Delia began, so nervous she forgot to say ‘hello’ in return and jumped right to it. “Would you like to go to the cinema tomorrow night?” 

Patsy tried not to look disappointed. “I really don’t want to go out with the group, Delia. I’m sorry, but I’m just not up for it.” 

“Alright,” Delia said, obviously disappointed, and clearly forgetting a rather large detail. She turned to leave, then it hit her. She spun back around. “No,” she said quickly, “not with them. Just me. I was wondering if you’d like to go with me, to the cinema. Just the two of us.” She stood there and smiled, and was now painfully aware of how she had stressed that it was just the two of them and how it sounded an awful lot like a date. She awaited the rejection.

“I’d love to,” Patsy said with a beaming grin. 

Delia couldn’t have been more surprised. “Splendid,” she said. She couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. 

***

The cinema wasn’t busy given it was a weeknight, not a typical date night, so there were plenty of tickets to either film. “Horror or musical romance?” Delia asked Patsy, a slight hint of disappointment in her voice that those were the two options. 

“Hmmm. ‘The Curse of Frankenstein’ or ‘Funny Face.’ Which one is the horror film again?” Patsy joked. 

“So you prefer monsters and mad scientists over singing and dancing?” Delia asked. 

“Tonight I do,” Patsy smiled. “If it’s all the same to you, that is. I do know how you love your dancing.” 

“I like to do the dancing, not so much watch other people do it,” Delia said. 

“Oh thank goodness,” Patsy said. “Because tonight I would like to just escape reality for a few hours. Just linger in a bit of fantasy.” 

Delia could not take her eyes from Patsy in this moment. “I can’t tell you how much I agree with that statement.” 

“Monsters and mad scientists it is,” Patsy said. 

Tickets purchased and seats picked out, the ladies settled in for the feature. Delia had brought in a small bag of sweets and let Patsy know she was welcome to as much as she wanted, but warned her that if she didn’t act fast they may all be devoured before the middle of the film. 

The house lights dimmed and the film finally started. The opening scenes weren’t that ominous. Delia leaned over towards Patsy and whispered, jokingly, “If you get scared, you can hold my hand.” No sooner than the words escaped her lips she immediately regretted them. What was she thinking? She didn’t want to send Patsy running away to never speak to her again. 

Patsy leaned over so close to Delia’s ear, Delia could feel the warm breath all the way down her neck when Patsy spoke. “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

Delia’s heart pounded in her chest. She could still feel Patsy’s warm breath on her skin despite the fact she had pulled away. Patsy’s heart raced at the sheer fear of getting caught before there was any reason at all to be scared. 

It took several minutes for either of them to be able to pay attention to the movie after their exchange. But eventually their hearts slowed and they were swept up in the film.

The walk home was deliberately slow. More than once hands brushed against each other as they walked a bit closer than necessary.

“That’s a Welsh lilt I pick up on every now and again, isn’t it?” Patsy broke the silence. “Where are you from?”

Delia blushed that Patsy had noticed such a small detail about her. “Yes. Pembrokeshire. Though I’m trying to sound a bit more like a Londoner.”

“Whatever for?” Patsy asked.

“The London accent seems to go over better with the patients,” Delia said. “More familiar.”

“The patients are in and out of our care so quickly,” Patsy said. “Who cares if they prefer a different accent? Besides, it’s lovely.” Patsy smiled and quickly diverted her eyes from her company, careful not to give too much away.

Delia blushed again. “And where are you from? You have a right proper English accent.” 

Patsy laughed. “Shanghai by way of Singapore.” 

Delia couldn’t control her face as it contorted into what could only be described as a question. “I wasn’t expecting that.” 

“How could you?” 

“Are your parents missionaries?” Delia asked. Almost certain the answer was no, most missionaries went to Africa, not Shanghai or Singapore.” 

“Hardly,” she said. “My father worked as a shipbroker. And my mother, let's just say, she married up.” 

“Where are they now?” Delia asked. 

“My father is in Hong Kong.” Patsy’s demeanor took a noticeable shift toward melancholy. “My mother has passed.”

“I’m so sorry, Patsy. I didn’t know.” She reached for Patsy’s hand to comfort her. 

Patsy saw the motion and pulled away sharply. “Again, how could you?” She forced a smile. They had arrived back at the nurses’ house. “Here we are.” Patsy said, quickly changing the subject. “Home sweet home.” 

They climbed the stairs in silence and arrived at Delia’s door. 

Delia felt awful for ruining what she thought was a lovely walk by bringing up Patsy’s mother. “Would you like to come in? Listen to a record or have a drink?”

Patsy smiled. It was sincere, albeit a little less than Delia hoped to see. “I have an early day.” 

“Right,” Delia interrupted. “I understand.” 

“I had a lovely time.” 

“Me too.” 

“Good night then, Delia.” 

“Good night.” 

Patsy turned and walked to the end of the hall and disappeared into her room. 

Delia sighed and retreated into her own room with mixed emotions. 


	5. Drinks and Cards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night out doesn't go as planned. But will an unplanned night in go better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: racist dialog between original characters. I consider it to be light, but still offensive. But it's at the very beginning if you want to skip over it. Just pick up at the first **** break. 
> 
> Happy Pupcake Friday! It's my birthday, and I think we can all use a distraction right about now. Enjoy.

“Can you believe that Martha Johnson is marrying that Jamaican fellow?” Susan gasped. 

“Such a waste, she’s such a good nurse,” Olivia said.

“Her poor parents,” Pearl said, shaking her head. “They’ll have little brown babies to push around in prams and have to endure the looks and whispers.” 

“Why would she even consider such a thing?” another nurse said. 

“Maybe because they’re in love,” Delia said matter-of-factly, and a bit too loud. 

“Love?” Jenny said. “She could have chosen any number of good English men. Not some ‘off the boat’ immigrant from Jamaica.” 

Patsy, who had finally agreed to come out with the girls after weeks of Delia’s insistent invitations, shifted her wide eyes from speaker to speaker as she sipped her cocktail. 

“She didn’t ‘choose’ Dominic! She fell in love with him. You can’t help who you fall in love with,” Delia shouted. She got up and stormed off toward the bar.

“What’s gotten into her?” Pearl asked. 

“Monthlies?” Gloria giggled and they all followed suit. 

“Who knows?” Olivia said. “Anyway, I agree. I wouldn’t want to claim those little brown babies that are sure to come in a few months. We all know they’ve already been sneaking late night getaways for weeks.” 

The covey of nurses continued their gossip as Patsy got up, unnoticed, to go check on Delia. 

“I can’t believe I’ve been denying myself these outings with the nurses,” Patsy said as she sidled up beside Delia. “So much stimulating conversation.” 

Delia shot her a look. She wasn’t in the mood. 

“Sorry,” Patsy said. This was clearly not the time for levity. “Can I at least buy you a drink?” 

Just as she asked, the bartender returned with the cocktail Delia had ordered before Patsy had joined her at the bar. “No thanks,” Delia said. “I’ve got it.” Delia took a long pull from her glass. “I’m sorry I invited you. Tonight’s conversation is clearly not worthwhile.” 

“Is it ever?” Patsy asked before she thought about how it would affect Delia. Delia looked at her, now regretting even more she had invited her in the first place. Patsy saw that her comment had hurt her feelings. “I mean, isn’t this what these get-togethers are for? Gossip?” 

“They’re supposed to be about blowing off steam and having a drink,” Delia said. “But some of the women are woefully opinionated. And not with opinions I share.” 

Patsy took a deep breath. “Please don’t take this personally,” she began, “I really should head back. I have an early shift tomorrow.” 

Delia was obviously disappointed. She was still surprised she had been able to get Patsy out at all. “Alright,” Delia said, forcing her lips into a smile. “Maybe next time you’ll be able to stay for the cinema.” She was ever so hopeful there would be a next time. 

“Perhaps.” Patsy smiled and kept Delia’s gaze a few seconds longer than she intended. “I’m off then.” And with that Patsy left Delia to rejoin the nurses who had already moved on to another topic of conversation. Or more to the point, to another poor nurse to make fun of. 

****

There was a light knock on Patsy’s door.  _ Who could that be? _ she thought. The knock was too light for the Matron who usually beat the door with a closed fist and yelled; besides, it was before curfew and she wasn’t being disruptive. 

“Yes?” she greeted the visitor, pulling the door open. A smile stretched across her face at the sight before her. Delia stood with a bottle of Johnnie Walker scotch in her outstretched hand. 

“I feel ever so terrible that you didn’t have a good time tonight,” Delia said. “And if you aren’t about to go to bed,” she looked Patsy up and down. Patsy had already changed into her pajamas: a two piece pant and top with vertical blue and white stripes that accentuated her already tall frame. Her hair was down and brushed and looked stunning as it framed her face. “I’d like to offer you a nightcap.”

Patsy’s smile broadened. “How could I possibly refuse?” Her eyes scanned Delia. She was picture perfect in her blue dress that brought out her eyes perfectly and her hair was, as always, the model of perfection--up and lacquered. “But, I’m afraid…” 

Delia frowned and cut her off. “I know, you have an early shift.” She turned to go and suddenly felt a warm hand grasp her arm and gently pull her back around. 

“That was a lie,” Patsy confessed. A playful look of guilt on her face. “A horrible lie and I shall never do that to you again. There is no early shift. I traded with Julia after I agreed to go out with everyone tonight. What I was going to say just now, is I’m afraid that you are woefully over dressed for nightcaps and you should go put on your pajamas and take your hair down.” Patsy smiled and Delia couldn’t control the warm blush that crept across her cheeks. “Go make yourself more comfortable and I’ll have drinks waiting when you get back.” 

Delia almost jumped out of her skin with delight. “Give me five minutes.” 

Delia returned dressed in solid mint green pajamas. Her long hair, brushed out, fell past her shoulders. And, as promised, Patsy met her with a drink in hand. 

“You didn’t go to the cinema with the other girls?” Patsy asked. 

“No,” Delia answered. “They wanted to go see the new Rock Hudson film. And I’m just not as into him as they are. Let’s just say, he’s not my type.” 

Patsy knew exactly what Delia meant. Or at least she hoped she did. “I feel the exact same way.” She smiled at Delia who smiled back at her and suddenly they were both at a total loss of what to do next. 

Delia spied a deck of cards on Patsy’s bedside table. “Cards,” she blurted out. “How about a game of gin rummy?” 

They sat on Patsy’s bed, played cards, drank scotch, and talked about work. Two glasses of Johnnie Walker in and their evening soon devolved into giggling and gossiping about their coworkers. Patsy, who had never taken the time to get to know anyone was astonished to find out some of the things Delia knew about the other nurses. 

“So what do you all say about me?” Patsy asked, a half hearted laugh punctuated the question. 

Delia’s smile faded. “Oh. Nothing, really.” She took a large sip of her whiskey. She wasn’t about to repeat the things the other nurses said about Patsy. The names they called her behind her back. “We don’t know anything about you. None of us do.” 

“And what if you did?” Patsy asked. “What if I told you about me? Would you tell them all next time you had a gossip circle?” 

“Not if you asked me not to,” Delia said. But that wasn’t entirely true. She wouldn’t tell, even if Patsy didn’t ask her to keep her secrets. 

“I see,” Patsy smiled. “Well, there isn’t much to tell. No fella, no family, nothing but work I’m afraid. Boring ol’ Patience.” 

“I’m sure there’s something,” Delia said, mischievously looking over the rim of her glass at Patsy. “There’s more to you than you let people know.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. I never know quite how to warn about things like the racist dialog in the beginning of the chapter. If you found the warning to be inadequate, please let me know.


	6. Truth or Dare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An impromptu game of Truth or Dare makes Patsy and Delia's night unforgettable.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Pupcake Friday. I hope you enjoy the final installment of my Patsy/Delia origin story. This chapter is a continuation of the last. Just before finalizing this chapter I realized i should have ended the last chapter with "to be continued." Live and learn. Will probably make the edit.

Patsy smiled. “There isn’t much to tell. No fella, no family, nothing but work I’m afraid. Boring ol’ Patience.” 

“I’m sure there’s something,” Delia said, mischievously looking over the rim of her glass at Patsy. “There’s more to you than you let people know.”

Patsy blushed. 

“Let’s play something else,” Delia said, trying to break the awkward silence. 

“Like what?” 

“Truth or Dare,” Delia said. 

“Truth or Dare?” Patsy asked. Her tone insinuated she either didn’t want to play or didn’t know how. 

“Yes. Do you know how to play?” 

“Of course I do. I went to boarding school after all,” Patsy said. “But I’ve already lied to you once tonight, what with the whole early shift shenanigans. How do you know you can trust me to tell the truth?” 

“Because you said you’d never lie to me again,” Delia said with a look that nearly melted Patsy. 

“Fair enough,” Patsy said. “But I get to go first.” Delia nodded her approval. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” Delia said. And she could swear she saw the subtlest look of disappointment on Patsy’s face. 

“Okay.” Patsy thought. She didn’t have a “truth” prepared. “If you don’t like Rock Hudson, who’s your favorite actor?” 

"Marlene Dietrich,” Delia said without hesitation and rushed right into her turn before Patsy could probe further. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Patsy said immediately. And she could swear she saw a look of disappointment on Delia’s face. 

“I dare you to drink the rest of your whisky in one gulp,” Delia said. She hadn’t been prepared for a dare so she said the first and most obvious thing that came to mind. 

Patsy turned up her glass and killed the Johnnie Walker with ease. “Truth or dare?” 

“Truth.” 

“Why do you go out with those rotten women to gossip?” Patsy asked as she poured herself another drink. “They’re positively awful.” 

“I don’t like the gossip,” Delia admitted. “I don't even like them all that much. But, I do like the cinema and I like to go out dancing. And they like to go out and do those things. So…” she trailed off. “Truth or dare?” 

“Dare.” 

Delia audibly sighed. There was so much she was dying to ask Patsy. So many questions she couldn’t ask in normal conversation that the game provided the perfect excuse for asking. As of now all she had learned about the mysterious redhead is that she once lived overseas, she went to boarding school, and she liked scotch whisky. “I dare you to go to the kitchen and steal me something sweet. From Jenny’s biscuit tin.” 

Patsy grinned. “No problem.” 

Delia listened to the footfalls from the all too familiar gait of the tall woman quietly making her way down the hall toward the stairs, her foot strikes muffled by slippers. She took the opportunity to look around Patsy’s room. She scanned every surface, from the bedside table, to the vanity, to the small shelf on the wall. It was spartan and neat. There were no photos, few books, a record player, and a small record collection. She was thumbing through the records when Patsy returned. 

“Lemon squares,” Patsy said in a bright cheerful tone when she returned, holding two confections in her palm. 

“Brilliant. That sourpuss doesn’t need any more citrus in her diet!” Delia said, recalling the awful comments Jenny had made about Margaret and Dominic. 

They each devoured the treats in a matter of seconds. 

“Truth or dare?” Patsy asked. 

“Truth,” Delia said. 

“Did you find what you were looking for while I was gone?” Patsy asked, head cocked slightly to one side.

“Patsy,” Delia stuttered. “I didn’t mean to. I didn’t snoop. I just looked at what was in plain sight. Mostly the records.” 

“It’s quite alright,” Patsy said. “I don’t have anything incriminating in here anyway.” Patsy’s mind wandered to the box hidden beneath her bed with the compact and the other random memories of her mother and sister and a life long gone by. Even if Delia had found it, she hadn’t had time to look through it. 

Delia was quiet. She now felt extremely guilty, although she had done nothing wrong. 

“Your turn to ask,” Patsy reminded her. 

“Truth or dare,” Delia asked, already knowing the answer. 

“Dare.” 

“I dare you to say ‘truth’,” Delia said. 

“It doesn’t work like that,” Patsy said, matter-of-factly. “Besides, as soon as I utter the word ‘truth,’ like so, I will have fulfilled your dare. And you just wasted your turn.” 

“Truth or dare?” Patsy asked. 

“Truth.” 

“Did you mean what you said earlier? At the bar. That you can’t help who you fall in love with?” Patsy asked, inching closer to Delia. 

“Yes,” Delia said, her voice now small and full of breath. “Have you ever been in love, Patsy?” She managed to ask.

“You didn’t say ‘truth or dare’,” Patsy said. 

“You always say ‘dare’,” Delia said. “I want you to say ‘truth.’” 

“I might surprise you, one of these rounds,” Patsy said. She inched ever so close to Delia. “Either way, you didn’t say the words, and you’ve wasted another turn. Truth or dare, Delia? And please don’t say ‘truth.’”

“Dare,” Delia said, swallowing hard and mustering up every ounce of bravery. Her voice now little more than a whisper with Patsy so close. 

Patsy’s breath stuttered. She closed the gap between her and Delia and used her thumb to remove a hint of powdered sugar from the corner of Delia’s mouth. “I dare you to kiss me,” Patsy said with a shaky voice.

“No,” Delia refused. 

The sound of the word caused Patsy to remove her hand and her stomach to flip. That was it. She had summoned up the courage, for once in her life, and it all came crashing down and reminded her why she was so closed off. “I’m sorry,” she murmured and turned away. 

Delia grabbed her arm and turned her back around. The brunette’s blue eyes were warm and there was a spark to them. A glint that Patsy had never seen or at least never noticed. 

“I don’t want the first time we kiss to be on a dare,” Delia said. “Dare me to do something else.” Delia wouldn’t break eye contact with Patsy. Patsy was at a complete loss for words. “Dare me to put on a record. Quickly. Before I lose all my nerve.” 

Patsy glanced down at the record player they were still standing beside. “I dare you to put on a record,” Patsy said, her voice almost failing. 

Delia already knew which one she would choose. She had picked it out while Patsy was retrieving the lemon squares and she decided she would find a way to play it tonight. It was Nat King Cole’s  _ Unforgettable _ on 45 rpm. As the first notes played, before the lyrics even started, Delia felt a hand on her shoulder pull her around. Patsy took her in her arms and they danced slowly and closely to the quiet song. They dared not turn it loud. Even though it was still well ahead of curfew they could not risk the Matron coming to tell them to quieten down. 

For three and a half minutes they held each other close—Delia’s head laying on Patsy’s shoulder. Patsy leading the slow swaying of their bodies to the soft rhythm. The song ended and the needle picked itself up and returned to the resting position. The room was quiet, yet the two women still swayed in each other’s arms to the familiar rhythm. 

It was Delia who finally stopped, lifted her head from Patsy’s shoulder, and met the taller woman’s eyes. She pushed herself up on her tiptoes and kissed Patsy tenderly on the lips. Patsy wrapped her arms around Delia and returned the kiss in kind. 

Delia pulled away and stood flat footed. She looked up into Patsy’s eyes as she ran her fingers through her thick, red hair. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time.” 

“Me too,” Patsy whispered. “Me too.” 

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading my take on how Patsy and Delia became a couple. The title "Secret Dance" was meant to not only describe the delicate dance gay people have to perform when they aren't sure their interest reciprocates their feelings, but to be literal with how I knew I wanted the story to end. I hope you enjoyed. Look for more Patsy and Delia shenanigans from me in the future. They are one of my favorite couples to write. 
> 
> Follow me on Twitter @masters_jd and feel free to leave prompts for Patsy/Delia or any of the other pairings I write.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos appreciated. Comments adored. 
> 
> Find me on twitter @masters_jd Prompts accepted.


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